


Real

by widovvmakers



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Post canon, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:57:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6268645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widovvmakers/pseuds/widovvmakers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neil finally gets his new real documents from the FBI and of course, Andrew is there with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be fluff but it turned into smut ops

Neil Josten was a real person. It was such a strange turn of events that Neil still couldn’t grasp it – he couldn’t even grasp that it was June, and it was summer again and that he was still alive to feel the sun on his skin – how could anyone expect him to grasp that he wasn’t no one anymore?  
He held his ID in his hand, his fingers gently placed on the corner of it, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. The envelope had arrived at his room, and he had moved to the bedroom to open it, Andrew on his heels. He could feel the cold stare of the smaller boy on him, but he didn’t budge. Neil was already well acquainted with Andrew’s stares.

He knew Andrew was bored out of his mind while he stared at the details of his new documents – for the first time since he could remember, not fake, with a name that felt more _his_ than any of the ones he had before, with a name that felt like acceptance, felt like home, felt like _safe_ – but that didn’t stop him from staring at it.

His mother’s voice still lingered in his head, telling how stupid he was by letting himself be a part of the system. His father’s eyes still bore into his skull, making him feel small. His knuckles twitched at the memory of fire against them. He felt the cuffs around his wrists, chaining him at Riko’s pleasure, at Lola’s. He was free, and safe, and he hadn’t forgotten it. But a wounded dog takes a while to stop flinching. His grip on the ID grew tighter.

Andrew’s response was almost immediate, snapping him out of it.

“Are you going to do this all day?” He asked, and his voice was as flat as always, but Neil knew the timing wasn’t a coincidence – very few of Andrew’s actions were a coincidence.

Instead of saying anything, he put his new ID card on top of the envelope, with his other documents, quietly putting them on the nightstand. He didn’t look at Andrew while he did it, as if being alone in a room with him made him as bored as Andrew looked to be.

When he did, Andrew was on top of him so fast he wouldn’t be able to process it if he wasn’t expecting.

Neil followed his movement, laying down in bed while Andrew’s tongue entered his mouth, dominating and sure. His hands flew up to the blonde hair, sinking his fingers into it, his mind only half acknowledging how ironic it was that this boy with such sharp edges had such soft hair. He didn’t mind that he couldn’t trace his hands to his neck and shoulder, feel the depth of his collarbones and how his chest felt under his fingers. He wanted it so much that at some points it even made him feverish with desire, but he didn’t _mind_. He expressed his urge with his mouth, his tongue desperate against his, his teeth clanking when that desperation made him clumsy. He buried his fingers into his hair while Andrew’s hand pressed against his thigh, still too far from where he was already twitching.

“Yes or no?” Andrew’s voice was low against his lips and the breath that it came with tasted like trust.

“Yes.” Neil sighed back, kissing him harder in return.

The feeling of Andrew’s hand on his body was familiar, but it still sent shivers down his spine while his fingers traced his thigh, passing over his cock but not even slightly grabbing it before stopping at the button of his shorts, struggling only for a moment before popping it open. Neil let go a quiet sigh of relief when he freed his growing hard on from the grip of his underwear.

He pulled Andrew’s hair back and they both stared at each other. The expression on his face was as emotionless as usual, but Neil learned how to look for the small signs. Andrew’s eyes had a tiny spark that if he wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t notice, and Neil knew with every fiber of his being that that spark was reserved for these moments – their moments, when it was just the two of them, kissing each other senseless, tripping on the long path to learn what trust and comfort meant for each of them. Neil wouldn’t go so far as to say that the spark belonged to him. His mouth, usually closed off in a thin line, was now redder, fuller, partly open as he tried to get his breath back.

He didn’t know if it was because he was so close, or because those lips were so red that they were practically begging to be kissed and sucked and bit into, or because of the slight angle Andrew had his head on because of the grip Neil had of his hair, or even because his cock was already hard against his stomach, but Andrew was the most beautiful sight Neil had seen in years.

And Neil’s face was a patchwork, filled with burns and scars that would never leave his face. Not only that, Neil’s face was the spitting image of his father. Hurt, and battered, but still him.

His grip on Andrew’s hair got weaker and even though he was slipping for a moment, his expression remained the same. But Andrew didn’t need to look at him to know he was slipping. In a matter of seconds, his mouth was against his again, demanding attention, grounding him to where he was, to where he would, for the first time in his life, stay. He locked his hand around his cock and that was all it took for his grip on his hair to come back, his body shifting underneath the smaller one.

A moan that almost sounded like a whimper escaped from his mouth and Andrew bit into his lip as a warning. He bit back, pulling his head into him while Andrew’s hand picked up a rhythm. His hand moved fast and he kept on kissing him even when Neil’s muffled moans and instinctive thrusts didn’t let him kiss him back.

All it took was a slight hesitation of Andrew’s tongue inside of his mouth, a small shift of his body as if his pants were bothering him, for Neil to know he was as hard as he was. He gathered his self control to bite down almost gently onto Andrew’s lower lip, tugging at it in a question, his hand moving but not going as low as the back of his head.

“Don’t.” Andrew answered, even though his voice was strained, and his grip on his cock grew tighter, which made his teeth slip from his lip when a moan went through his throat. He didn’t push any further, but went for a kiss on Andrew’s neck, and he could almost feel the shiver that went through his body.

His whole body was feeling what Andrew’s hand was doing to him, and he moaned against his skin again, and he didn’t even try to stop him from doing it, because they were both too far away already. His mouth travelled up through his neck, and he advanced slowly, or as slowly as he could manage while Andrew made him feel as if he was transcending existence, giving him a choice to stop him without violence if he wanted to.

He felt his pre cum leak from the tip of his head and onto Andrew’s hand, and he let out a strangled groan, biting down onto his lobe.

Neil couldn’t understand if he said _fuck you Neil_ or _fuck Neil_ , and knowing him, it was more likely the former, but that was enough to send him over the edge, relief sending waves through his body while he dropped back in bed and only half acknowledged Andrew wiping his hand clean onto Neil’s shirt. He moved his eyes, searching for his face, and the blonde boy didn’t even try to shift or hide the middle of his legs, because he knew Neil wouldn’t look.

Andrew was getting his ID from the nightstand and he immediately tossed it at him.

“Go buy me a fucking whisky with your real ID, Pinocchio.” He said, already moving to take a shower and do for himself what he had just done for Neil.


End file.
